Kvæle
by Novocain
Summary: Katara stayed exactly where she was – flat on her back, staring at the stars but not seeing them. She doesn't care anymore. There's no hope in the world. For the world.


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It was the scream of an owl that alerted Katara to the intruder.

Normally, she would have leapt to her feet and dropped into a bending stance.

Normally, she would have uncorked her water jug.

Normally, she would have demanded to know who was there.

This was not "normally."

Katara stayed exactly where she was – flat on her back, staring at the stars but not seeing them.

She didn't care.

"I don't care," she voiced dully. Her words shattered and were lost as the owl hooted again.

The waterbender felt a cold blade at her throat and didn't flinch. She didn't tense. She didn't catch her breath.

Katara stayed exactly where she was – flat on her back, staring at the stars but not seeing them.

A fire-roughened voice hissed, "Where is the Avatar, peasant?"

She said nothing.

She closed her eyes so as not to see Zuko's scarred face, his eyes narrowed in hatred and poorly concealed desperation.

She said nothing.

The knife sliced the skin of her throat only slightly in the continued silence.

"Peasant! Do you want to die? Tell me where all your little friends are!" Zuko sounded a little unnerved. For a prince, he was terrible at hiding his emotions. Normally (there was that word again), Katara would be vehemenently refusing to turn over the Avatar and the two benders would be progressing to a battle.

But…nothing. The silence was broken only by Katara's calm inhalations and exhalations.

Her finger twitched.

His dagger dug into her skin a little deeper, and fresh blood ran down her…bare neck? Where was the choker she always wore?

Zuko did not ask. He refused to show interest in his enemy's curiosities.

"Tell –" he started again, but the girl interrupted him.

"I don't care." Her voice was monotone and…uncaring, Zuko realized. She meant it. "Slit my throat, if you like. You'll never find them now."

He swallowed. There was a bad feeling in his gut. "…What do you mean, peasant?"

She said nothing. Her blue eyes were still closed.

"Where is your choker, Katara?"

That got a reaction, though a mild one. Her eyelashes fluttered and opened, meeting his gaze.

He didn't want to meet her eyes. He really didn't. Zuko believed himself brave, with good reason, but this… this was – Nothing. Nothing: it was a new tactic, or something. They weren't –

"I gave it to Aang. And my brother. And Toph."

dead.

Dead like her voice. Dead like her eyes.

"How?" he croaked. "You're lying. You've got to be lying."

Katara closed her eyes again, just as slowly as she opened them.

"I'm lying. I have to be lying," she agreed calmly. "I'm wrong. I have to be wrong. Only, Aang was covered in blood and missing his spine, and Sokka was missing his head, and Toph was missing her feet. I'm wrong. They're not dead. They're not not not dead."

Zuko sat back, dazed. The dagger fell with a quiet thump to the half-dead grass.

She wouldn't stop talking now. He wished she would.

"That's why I gave my mother's necklace to Aang, really. Sokka couldn't have worn it with his head gone. And I love – loved – love Aang. And Toph – well, she would've refused if she had been alive. So I tied it around Aang's neck, even though he was missing his spine." She paused. "I don't think he'll find it. I hope the necklace lets me go to Aang when I die. I hope that it binds us together. I…don't hope. There is no more hope in the entire world, and I'll never see Aang's smile or Sokka's scowl, and I'll never hear Toph call Aang 'Twinkletoes' again, and there is no more hope in the world. For the world."

He said nothing.

She continued. "There was blood everywhere. Sokka was soaked in it – his clothes weren't even blue anymore. Aang was laid out on the ground in a way that should have been impossible, but I suppose that having no spine can do that. And Toph –" For the first time, Katara's voice broke a little. "Toph's feet – her eyesight, her bending – had been taken. Her innocence too. She was naked and bloody and – and footless."

Katara opened her eyes again at the sound of his retching and tilted her head slightly to look at him. "I vomited, too. It's okay."

The complete inanity of this girl, of all girls, telling him "it's okay" nearly made him laugh.

All that came out was a choked sound, and then he retched again. When he finished and crawled away from the puddle, her dead eyes followed him.

"I don't care." Her voice was monotone and…uncaring, Zuko realized. She meant it. "Slit my throat, if you like. You'll never find them now."

Because they were as dead as Katara' voice, as dead as her eyes.

As dead as hope.

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A/N: First try at Avatar fic. I know it's depressing. I was going to write a Zutara fic, but this came out instead. roll eyes I have no control.

Encourage me! Or discourage me. If you fell this is a stain on the name of Avatar fanfiction, tell me! If I get enough of them, I'll take it down.


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